Meadowlark Prairie turn your wounds into wisdom

The weather was fair for travel, and the quiet steps of the lynx carried him far from the sea in search of the spirits of the fel. Bajeera was certain that there would be few on the water’s edge that would have the glow about them, but his whiskers had twitched curiously with each passing scent that carried promise of wolf packs in large numbers. The Gul’Dan had never truly been fond of the beasts, but they had never done him harm, and so he had lived alongside them for his first year. Few of them spoke his language, and he found himself stumbling over the common terms that were used. Still, the great fel spirits spoke of promise in that land, and the quiet cat was intent on finding whatever it was that was in store for him.
 
Picking his way through the prairie, the feline could scent two packs on either side and frowned thoughtfully; they were neighbors in that land, though far enough away that he was nowhere near the scent-marked borders. It caused his fur to prick to be out in the open with very little cover. Even more so when his gaze caught the sight of a patchwork beast nibbling on poison ivy. Tufted ears swiveled atop the Gul’Dan’s crown and he breathed heavily the scent of this male. Bajeera turned his head as he inspected the creature before him, careful to keep his distance, but curious.
 
It was only within the moment that he realized the canine had mismatched eyes. Widening his own vision, the lynx crept forward to peer at the brute with a quiet reverence. He had been blessed by the spirits in a different sense; this wolf had been given two bodies inside of him.